Hann crept up behind Kent, careful to not make a sound. Although he had removed his boots, the wood creaked with every step. The captain drew another swig of rum and leaned the bottle down on the barrel. That's it, keep drinking. Cloud your ear. And your head to boot. It will only make my job easier.
The ship lurched, sending sea spray over them. Regaining his balance, Hann hesitated. He gripped the knife and positioned it above his head. He was almost there. Two more steps, a quick plunge of the blade, and then overboard with the murdering scoundrelto the depths of the sea where he belonged. Then finally, justice would be served.
Grabbing a key, Isabel thrust it into the keyhole and jiggled. Her hands trembled.
A child's scream filled the air.
The lock wouldn't catch. She pulled the key out, and it slipped from her hand, clanging to the floor.